Cooking? Cooking!
by ricetard
Summary: Zuko teaches Sokka to cook. Slash, oneshot. Rated for sexual references XD.


**I seriously have been cracking out the crack lately. So I thought I actually might do something sane this time.**

**Okay, maybe not completely **_**sane**_**. But at least has a (little bit of) plot. And the fluff. OH TEH FLUFF.**

**I HATE AU BUT I REALLY COULDN'T HELP MYSELF THIS TIME OKAY? Actually, this is more ish. And I honestly don't know how to bake a cake; I was reading a recipe the entire time XD It's Angel Food Cake. I should learn how to make some. *considers***

**THE END IS SO CHEESY YOU HAVE NO IDEA –shot-**

--

**Cooking**

_Zuko teaches Sokka to cook._

--

It's not that Sokka doesn't know how to cook; it's just that he's too lazy to that he makes others do it. And it's not that Zuko likes to cook, it's just that if he doesn't, then he and his boyfriend would end up starving on the streets without any money. Despite being the Fire Lord, Zuko likes being generous more, considering his completely upheaval of the "evil side." So he does everything by himself, and, unlike Azula had been before (he doesn't want to associate with the devil in any way whatsoever), he doesn't require maids or butlers or anything.

But seriously, living with his boyfriend is just impossible. Sokka's always out training with the Kyoshi warriors or just _hanging out_ with them that he doesn't have time to cook--or so like Sokka likes to tell him. Zuko knows otherwise, that his boyfriend is just lazy, but he doesn't call him out on it, he merely nods and goes back to doing his housework. Despite that Zuko was more of the man in the relationship (and both of them know it; really, a firebender lord?), he's forced to do the more womanly jobs ever since the two have them moved in.

However, Zuko's schedule has become a little..._tight_ lately (or so he likes to say to himself, when he really knows that his patience is wearing thin and he can't deal with cooking so much anymore) and he's decided that he's going to make Sokka start cooking, whether he wanted to or not. Still, Sokka's cooking skills don't have much potential (which was a reason why Zuko had not-so-reluctantly taken the role of cooking in the beginning--try Sokka's Great And Magical Fish Balls once and your balls will become great and magical, which is nonconsensual for the both of them later at night), so Zuko's decided that he's going to get the man to cook, and not just that, but cook _well_.

Or at least, he'll try.

So Zuko is currently in the kitchen with Sokka, an apron tied around his waist, as he's trying to explain to Sokka the linguistics of baking a cake. Cake is the easiest thing for either of them to make, even as reckless of a man Sokka is, plus, cake happens to be one of Sokka's favorite foods so he's rather eager to try. And when Zuko tells Sokka precisely why they're doing this (after saying that, no, you can't just _smash_ the egg), Sokka gives him a rather offended look and puts his hands on his waist, tightening his own apron.

"I can cook! And I will, through baking a cake!"

"Let's sure hope so," Zuko replies, and he sighs to himself and glances around the stone kitchen. "Well let's see, first we'll need some flour, eggs, sugar and milk."

"Got it." Sokka goes to the pantry, and pulls out a carton of milk, a sack of flour, and a tray of eggs. Zuko walks over and looks them over, turning the milk carton around, poking the flour sack and the bag of sugar, and opening up the eggs.

"Sokka, when were these eggs bought?"

"Uh, last month, I think," Sokka shrugs, coming over to him and looking at the cardboard as well. "Why?"

"Because it says that it expired a few weeks ago," Zuko points out, his finger indicating the date on the carton. "Go buy us some fresher eggs in the market."

"Okay!" Sokka says happily, only eager to help out (he doesn't know that he can't just go and take the eggs; he has to weigh and calculate exactly how many eggs he needs for the recipe; though, with such _brains_ he has, Zuko adds in his mind, he should be able to figure it out.)

"Oh, and Sokka?" Zuko glances at the milk carton. "We're going to need some new milk too. This one here is rotten."

"You just want me doing more work, don't you?" Sokka's shoulders slump and he walks out of the house in annoyance, though with his tasks in mind. Zuko rolls his eyes and thoughtfully looks after him, under the presumption that maybe his boyfriend will actually do something right one time just for him.

Sokka comes back just as Zuko is getting the other ingredients out. There's a fresh tray of eggs in one hand, and the milk carton in the other. Zuko beams and kisses his boyfriend on the cheek as he takes them from his hand, and rests them on the counter. "Thanks Sokka," he says to him. Sokka grumbles under his breath and doesn't respond, though he doesn't seem too annoyed at Zuko.

"Yeah, yeah, that's great. Now let's start this cake!" He makes his way around to the stove and looks around at the spoons and cups Zuko's already pulled out. "What do we do first?"

"Well _first_, we wash our hands." Zuko gives him a very prominent look and walks over to the sink, dragging Sokka along with him. Sokka looks like he's about to protest at such _sanitation_, but one look from Zuko and he shuts up. They walk over and run their hands underneath the water (and Zuko has to stop himself from being corny and romantic and holding his boyfriend's hand during this), and then go back to their supplies.

"Okay, so put the flour in the bowl." Zuko indicates the bowl in front of Sokka. "And then put the sugar in."

"What are you going to do?" Sokka asks, as he starts to open up the flour bag.

Zuko shrugs. "I'll watch."

"But I can't make cake by myself!" Sokka protests, holding the sack of flour to him. "Aren't you gonna help me?"

"Nope. The point of this is to get you to learn how to cook. I'll answer your questions, but I'm not going to do anything."

"I swear, every day you're becoming more like your uncle," Sokka grumbles as he dumps a decent amount of flour and sugar into respective measuring cups, until Zuko tells him to stop and he puts them into the bowl.

Then Sokka makes his way over to the eggs, when Zuko suddenly interjects, "Don't smash them, remember?"

"I wasn't going to smash them! A good warrior knows good tactics," Sokka snaps back, taking one out of the tray. He cautiously makes his way over to the bowl, and makes to crack the egg next to the bowl.

"Careful…" Zuko warns.

"I'm careful!"

"Okay, okay! I'm just making sure that you don't do something stupid."

Sokka gives Zuko a look, the uncracked egg still in his hand. "Do I _look_ like I'd do something stupid?"

"Sokka, do you really want me to answer that?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Sokka rests the egg down (gently!) on the counter, and then puts his hands on his hips and looks at Zuko expectantly. Zuko sighs and glances at the egg.

"Okay, you seem like you'd do something stupid every once in a while. Now get back to that cake before something drops or breaks!" Zuko indicated the egg very pointedly with his eyes, and Sokka scowls as he goes back.

"Well…well it's not like you don't do anything stupid once in a while," he mumbles to himself, but Zuko ignores this as he continues to observe from the side.

After Sokka is done adding more eggs and beating their whites (which Zuko has to admit is quite nicely made, because of Sokka's muscles—though, he'll never admit this in real life because he knows that Sokka would just gloat on it forever), he goes on to the baking pan, where he greases it (under Zuko's careful instructions; it takes him all he can to tell him that no, he can't draw inappropriate pictures with the greasing brush). Then he puts the beaten-egg whites into the bowl, with the flour and the sugar, and starts whisking them together with a nearby kitchen appliance that he can't pronounce (Zuko doesn't tell him though, just to spite him later when they're in bed). When Zuko hands him the spatula, Sokka gives him a look and asks him if it's a sexual tool (_really_, why is it that sex is the only thing Sokka can think about?), but Zuko rolls his eyes and tells him to shut up about his libido and just _use_ it. So Sokka does, though not completely appropriately, while Zuko voluntarily adds in the nearby salt and vanilla and tartar and extract as he mixes.

"I thought you said you weren't helping me," Sokka points out teasingly as a small smudge of flour drifts onto his face. Zuko shrugs and observes the mixture.

"I feel like I should help you every once in a while," he replies.

"But you've basically added the rest of the ingredients!"

"Yes, that's because I don't want you screwing up their measurements." Zuko gives him a meaningful look, which Sokka can't really respond to, because he sort of agrees with it anyways.

"You know, I still don't see the point of doing this. I'll be able to bake a cake. Big deal. Does that mean we'll be having cakes for the rest of our lives?"

"Well no, but I want _you_ cooking every once in a while." Zuko looks at him pointedly. "Have you noticed that you don't cook, at _all_?"

"Well no, but that's because I've been living with girls all my life. Most of it so far, at least," Sokka responds, not glancing up from his hard work. "I don't really cook. I've never learned how to cook."

"Which is why I'm teaching you now. And we're starting with the basics. Cake." Zuko glimpses down at Sokka's hands. "You're doing pretty well."

"Thanks," Sokka says cheerfully, flipping the dough over and over again with his spatula. "Though, I don't think that if you really want me to _learn_, you should have let me screwed up on the other ingredients' measurements or something so I actually _know_ them."

"Are you kidding? I want to eat _something_ today," says Zuko, indicating his growling stomach. "I'm only letting you handle the easy parts. Maybe one day we'll get to the more challenging, and you'll learn how to be a great cook like me."

"You're definitely not a great cook," Sokka chortles as he observes the cake dough. "Is it done yet?"

"I think so," Zuko says, peering down at it as well. "And what do you mean, I'm not a great cook? You willingly eat my food."

"Yeah, it's good and all, but it's not_ great_," Sokka points out. "I think we both need to take cooking classes."

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much," Zuko says defiantly, putting his hands on his lips. Sokka hits his arm and laughs.

"Don't do that with the apron; you look like such a girl. Now I think this is done." He glances at his bowl.

"Not yet."

"No, I'm pretty sure it's most definitely done."

"It's _not_."

"Zuko, I think I'm right, I've been stirring this thing for the past few minutes."

"Yeah, but you don't know anything about cooking. I told you, it's _not done yet_."

"Well whatever. I think it's fine." Sokka glances around. "Now where's the oven?"

"We're not _using_ an oven! And I told you, it's not done yet! Stir," Zuko commands.

"No! It's perfectly fine! We just need to put this in an oven now," Sokka insists, pacing around the kitchen and looking for said appliance. "Now where is it?"

"There _is_ no oven." Zuko raises his eyebrows and flicks his fingers, and a small flame comes to them. "Firebender, remember?"

"Oh."

"So stir."

"Fine."

Sokka stirs and Zuko smirks at the dominance he has to him. Sometimes, it's great being the man in the relationship (though, if Sokka was even a little bit of a woman, he'd have to kill himself; females really bugged Zuko, that's why he had dated Mai for a while), any relationship, really. But it wasn't like he didn't value their relationship. Little by little, through the short time they had known each other, an inexplicable friendship, love had built between them, until they ended up living together and teaching one another the meanings of life, such as romance and bonding and friendship. And cooking, of course, which was a necessity on its own.

Once the dough is to (_Zuko's_) satisfaction, Zuko takes the metal bowl and throws it up in the air, and shoots some fireballs at it. With unnecessary flips, of course, which, at first, Sokka mutters, "Show-off" to but then stares in awe as the fire comes from his feet. The flour flies out each time, until it's finally ready, a little bit unrealistically (though, a rather a lot of things have been unrealistic in their reality so neither really care, nor mind) but perfectly plopping down in the bowl as a round, crown-sort of shaped cake inside. Sokka grins, and rushes towards it.

"Let's eat!" he says, but Zuko stops him quickly with an outstretched hand.

"Not yet. It's still hot." He indicated the small wisp of smoke that is coming from the side of the bowl. "We can wait a little."

"But I don't wanna wait, I'm hungry!" Sokka whines

Zuko gives him a look, and unlike Aang, Katara or Toph, who would have let him risk himself for the food, he doesn't stop from warning him and rather forcibly pulls him back. "_No_. We have to wait, or else you'll hurt yourself."

"Fine," Sokka grumbles. He plops back in a chair in the kitchen, and stares at the cake wistfully. "What should we do now?"

"Well we should clean up." Zuko is still standing as he watches Sokka, with his eyebrows raised. Sokka sighs, but gets back up ad together the two of them rearrange the kitchen until it's the way it was before. Then they sit back down at the table, and watch the lonely cake on the floor as it cools off.

"I like that apron on you. Do you wear it every day when you cook?" Sokka observes as he looks over at his boyfriend. Zuko rolls his eyes and shrugs.

"Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Maybe I should help you cook more often," Sokka says thoughtfully. Zuko snorts to himself.

"What; just so you can see me in this sexy apron?"

"Most definitely. And it was fun just hanging out with you," Sokka smiles to the other boy. "Cooking _is_ fun. I guess I will do it."

"The point isn't to have fun. It's to do something _efficiently,_" Zuko emphasizes, but Sokka rolls his eyes and leans across the kitchen table, pecking him on the lips.

"Yeah, yeah. Now is the cake ready?" he asks him.

Zuko looks back down at the bowl on the floor, then back at Sokka.

"Yeah, I think it's ready."

"Great, because I'm starving."

Sokka sends Zuko another grin, and this time, Zuko returns it. Because in all reality, they're a little bit like cooking, like science. There's the two of them, to make their recipe, but there's always the little stuff in between to make them perfect. And even if Sokka isn't the most perfect (and housewifely, or as housewifely as he can be) boyfriend there is, he's still the most important ingredient in their perfect cake.


End file.
